


a week before now

by Plastic_man1



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Games, Haikyuu!! Manga Spoilers, Kinda, M/M, Mutual Pining, Truth or Dare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2021-02-26 11:46:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22682014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Plastic_man1/pseuds/Plastic_man1
Summary: Hinata hesitates for a second, the unreadable expression on his face again. Atsumu can see the wheels turning in his head, wanting to reject the dare rule. Then he puffs out a frustrated breath of air and pulls his shirt off in a haste.Atsumu lets his eyes wander for a second, but only a second.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Miya Atsumu
Comments: 16
Kudos: 316
Collections: Haikyuu Fics that made me feel things, MSBY Black Jackals Gold





	a week before now

The static from the small television is the only sound in the room.

It’s already past midnight, and Atsumu feels his eyes growing heavier by the minute. They’ve been sitting in Hinata’s room for the past four hours coming up with signs for their upcoming match and watching the television screen intently, trying to pick up on Schweiden Adlers own signs. By the third hour, the drawings and words in Atsumu’s book looks closer to scribbles than anything else.

He shifts his gaze to the redhead laying splayed across the floor, writing vigorously on the ripped paper. His energy levels never seem to decline. Not on the court, and not any other place.

It doesn’t bother Atsumu. What bothers him is how tongue-tied he feels at the moment, and every time he tries open his mouth to say something, he feels the need to swallow and the urge to throw up. It is _dumb_.

He wouldn’t call himself a romantic. More the opposite. He’s never kept a girlfriend for long. A month at best, and if someone told him he would eventually see himself wanting to do _anything _with a guy as well, he would laugh and tell them to suck it. No, he doesn’t call himself a romantic, but Hinata is so.. _earnest_. Blunt, yet sympathetic. Stubborn, yet persistent. He always surprises, and Atsumu is caught off guard every time.

The thought of fucking up their friendship or trying for anything else makes the older’s stomach churn unpleasantly. To see a hurt expression on his face would feel like the end of the world. Probably worse. When Atsumu gives it a second thought, he’s never seen Hinata’s face closer to a negative emotion, except for slight irritation. It adds to the upset feeling.

The television turns off with a soft click, the inactivity probably being the cause. Hinata is up on his feet in an instant, grabbing the remote.

“Maybe it’s time to call it a night,” Atsumu finds his own voice. He shifts his gaze toward Hinata.

“There’s only a week left before the game. We can finish this,” the television turns on before Atsumu can answer. “I’m not even tired! Are you?” asks Hinata.

Atsumu is dead tired. If he could, he would lay down on the floor and sleep until the morning after. He wouldn’t be comfortable, and his quality of sleep would be worse than when he had his last year in high school.

“Nah. Not really,” it is a tiny lie, but it makes Hinata beam nonetheless, and that makes Atsumu’s heart beat faster. It’s all he needs to stay awake. At least for a while.

Hinata plops on the floor again, taking the pen into his mouth for a second, and it looks like he’s pondering really hard. It’s cute. But Atsumu doesn’t say that out loud.

Ten minutes barely reach to pass before Atsumu finds himself nodding off. Every time his head dips, he catches himself in the act and turns his head toward Hinata, only to see him still watching the paper. After the millionth time of almost falling asleep, he clasps his hands together and stretches. Hinata looks up.

“Do you want food or someth-“

“You wanna play a game?” Atsumu cuts him off smoothly.

Hinata looks taken aback for a moment, but then he nods firmly, a smile hinting at the corners of his lips.

Atsumu ends up on the floor next to Hinata, knees barely touching, explaining the (so not homemade game) rules.

“Everytime you fail a sign, you have to answer a question,” Atsumu smirks.

“Okay, so everytime _you _fail a sign, you have to answer _my _questions?” asks Hinata, starting to understand the concept of the game. Not that it worries the older boy.

“Nah, only you-“

“That’s not fair!” Hinata crosses his arms and pouts. He’s unbelievable cute when he does, and it takes all the effort Atsumu has to not laugh out loud or do something else stupid. If Hinata is going to make his own rules, then Atsumu will have to make it harder for him.

“Well then,” Atsumu grins. “Everytime you fail, you’ll have to do something I dare you to,”

Hinata rolls his eyes, still pouting, but his expression softens a tiny fraction. “Okay,” he says.

Grabbing the book with newly written scribbles, Atsumu throws some glances toward Hinata. His eyes are closed and his mouth is slightly open. It’s not an expression Atsumu gets to see often. It’s a reason he chose to add that rule as well.

“Okay!” Atsumu clasps his hands together. “Do you know this sign?” asks Atsumu. He folds his index and middle finger together.

Hinata squints a millisecond before he remembers.

“That’s my spike signal!” Hinata practically yells as he crosses his arms again, looking more dejected than anything. “I’m not dumb either,” he mumbles. Atsumu laughs.

“Sorry,” that seems to do the trick with the sour look on Hinata’s face. “I’ll do a harder one,”

He looks through the book again, sneaking another glance at Hinata’s face. This time he is looking straight at him. It startles Atsumu, because he did _not _expect to get caught. Hinata doesn’t seem to notice, or doesn’t care, he only closes his eyes.

“This one,” says Atsumu. He closes his hand in a fist before stretching his little finger out.

This time Hinata scrunches his eyebrows together and is quiet for more than ten seconds.

“20 second rule,” Atsumu reminds him.

“I-“ sighs Hinata. “I don’t know,” he pulls a hand through his hair. “I don’t know.”

“Left side attack and middle blocker defense,” Atsumu grins. Hinata sighs again.

“Okay, hit me,”

Atsumu bites his lip. He know what he wants to ask, but those are thing’s he shouldn’t even think about. Asking for a favorite color or dish seems childish in a way. Somewhere in between would be nice.

“Who do you think sets better? Me or Kageyama,” Atsumu mentally facepalms himself.

Hinata doesn’t mind. Or at least it doesn’t show on his face. He brings a finger to his lips, hiding an unreadable expression.

“It’s been long since Kageyama has set for me,” A stinging feeling grows in Atsumu’s stomach. “So I’ll just have to say you,” he finishes, the expression on his face softening.

Atsumu releases a breath of air he’s been holding. The stinging feeling dissipates as well. He’s not about to be jealous because of a game. Instead, he diverts the attention to Hinata again.

“You’ll also have to take your shirt off,” the taller boy dares him, hands landing firmly on his own waist.

Hinata hesitates for a second, the unreadable expression on his face again. Atsumu can see the wheels turning in his head, wanting to reject the dare rule. Then he puffs out a frustrated breath of air and pulls his shirt off in a haste. Atsumu lets his eyes wander for a second, but only a second.

Hinata tries for the hardest sign there is, just as Atsumu predicts.

“It’s not fair,” says Hinata, dragging a face over his face as he fails a sign again.

“You should have practiced more,”

“I did,“

“Clearly not enough,” says Atsumu, though there’s no hostility in his voice. Hinata catches his eye and decides to move closer, their knees brushing in the process.

“Okay, hit me again,” says Hinata, putting his hands on Atsumu’s knees. _There’s _that intense look. The older boy is certain that a couple degrees increases in the room as he almost topples over the younger boy.

Being discreet is probably a good idea. If he goes straight on the hard questions, Hinata will probably catch up and take it as a wrong signal. Or not. It really depends on what type of people Hinata generally falls in love with. Whether it be boys or girls. Atsumu just want to know his type. For better or for worse.

“Do you have a type?” he asks before he’s finished processing his own thoughts.

Hinata tenses up immediately and releases Atsumu’s knees as he hunches over a bit. From that angle, Atsumu can clearly see down his back.

“I’ve never been together with anyone,” he says.

It doesn’t surprise Atsumu. Hinata has only ever focused on volleyball. It’s not like he would have time for relationships. It makes Atsumu feel a simple sort of comfort. Not because he wants Hinata for himself, but because the tiny possibility that he could be the first one to ever be together with Hinata in _that _way.

The only thing it doesn’t rule out is the probability of Hinata having someone _else _he likes.

“But everyone’s liked someone,”

“Well, not me,” Hinata falters.

Atsumu tries again.

“So you don’t have a type-“ Atsumu curses himself for being desperate.

“I didn’t say that I don’t,” Hinata cuts in.

“So, what’s your type?” asks Atsumu.

“That’s two questions,”

Realization hits, and the older boy feels himself growing hotter. He is acting greedily. Looking at Hinata, he only sees a smile and two kind eyes. He relaxes a bit at that.

“It’s my turn now?” asks Hinata.

Atsumu nods and passes the book to Hinata, though he doesn’t seem interested in it.

“Do _you _have a type?” he says instead.

Atsumu’s head snaps up and he watches the other boy hesitantly, the game already forgotten. Hinata doesn’t waver. He only looks. The same expression on his face as when he intensely plays volleyball.

“I- yes.” Atsumu answer, not daring to look away. Hinata is the first one to break eye contact. It gives Atsumu a moment to breathe.

“_Who’s_ your type?” Hinata continues.

Atsumu is torn between wanting to laugh away the thick tension and saying you you you _you_. Hinata must know. He’s not dumb. Of course he knows. Maybe Atsumu should say. _No,_ he shouldn’t. It would only complicate things.

“That’s two questions,” he repeats.

“_Are _we still playing?” asks Hinata.

“Nah, I should head home,” Atsumu reaches for his pencils and bag, hurriedly trying to get out of the situation, out of his flat.

Atsumu hopes he doesn’t get it, but there’s no way Hinata is _that _oblivious.

“You can sleep here,”

Atsumu stops in his tracks. That’s the last words he thought he would hear. _You can sleep here._ What does that mean? Does he mean sleep with _him_, or _sleep _with him?

“It’s late, and you shouldn’t go home at this hour,”

At that, Hinata starts making the bed, finding a second set of blankets and pillows. Before Atsumu can begin to comprehend the situation, he's laying down on the outer side of Hinata's bed. The lights are out and Hinata is still, laying with his back towards him. Atsumu is not tired anymore. He’s watching Hinata’s back while thinking. He could reach out a hand, touch him, maybe he could run a hand through his hair, or maybe they could-

Hinata turns around. “You’re not sleeping?” he asks, exhaustion seeping through his voice. Whether Hinata likes to admit it or not, he gets tired too.

“You’re not either,”

Hinata smiles. It’s not the same as the other ones he usually show people on the court, his friends or even his family. Maybe it’s meant for him. He hopes so.

They lay in a comfortable silence, not fazed by the proximity, or the previous moment. They’re just there. Almost breathing the same air. Atsumu’s never been this close to Hinata. He can see freckles he’s never noticed before. His neck is a shade lighter than his face. He has one or maybe two chest hairs. It’s cute.

“You forgot to put your shirt on again,” _What the fuck, stupid?_

Hinata looks down at himself, his hand tracing a collarbone.

“Do you want me to?” he asks.

No. Atsumu doesn’t want him to. If he could choose, he would want him without any clothes on. He doesn’t necessarily think about sex. They could just lay there, Atsumu caressing his chest, Hinata sighing into his hair. And sometimes Hinata could let a shiver pass through his body, and Atsumu would feel it through his own fingertips.

“We’re both guys, so it’s fine,” says Atsumu, lacking confidence.

Hinata’s expression changes. It’s the unreadable one again.

And then,

“It’s unfair if I’m the only one who’s shirtless,”

This time it’s Hinata’s time to act coy. It’s endearing. Almost erotic in a way.

“That’s reasonable,”

Atsumu doesn’t want to be a dick. There is no reason for him to act cocky, but bad habits die hard, and he’s not about to let go of them just yet.

“Don’t look too hard,” he says and pulls the shirt over his head, hoping it comes through as teasing and not him being a fucking asshole.

Hinata looks caught in the act as he lets his head tilt forward, bangs covering his eyes. At least Atsumu can see his smile. It’s barely there, but it’s enough for confirmation.

He’s never seen Hinata this modest. Maybe it’s the fact that they’re two guys in a bed, half naked, barely talking. He hopes the guy part doesn’t turn him off. What if he doesn’t approve of guys liking other guys? The thought has never hit Atsumu before.

“Do you like men?”

It’s probably not the best thing he could ask in that moment, but he earns a very flustered face and a stuttering mess. The tables turn. 

“I- I haven’t really thought- it’s not that I like men, but-“ he slaps a hand over his own mouth. It’s captivating to watch Hinata talk at times. Especially when he don’t know what to say.

“But?” tries Atsumu.

Hinata attempts to speak again. “But I like _a _man,” he hides his face in his hands.

Atsumu should _really_ not push it.

“Who?”

Hinata lays still for what seems like an eternity, before he mumbles into his own hands. It’s undoubtedly Atsumu’s name. But he wants to hear him say it again.

“I can’t hear yo-“

“Atsumu Miya,” Hinata says, hands falling to the mattress instead.

Hinata swallows thickly, and it’s obvious he’s somewhat uncomfortable, but there’s an evident courage in his manner that’s not supposed to be there. He’s supposed to be scared. Brace himself for what’s to come. Or maybe he trusts a person hundred percent when he confides in them. Whatever it is, Atsumu is not going to exploit him for it.

Instead he pushes himself up with one hand on the bed. There’s a moment of hesitation, but at this point, he’s got nothing to lose.

“Is this okay?” he asks.

Hinata lets his mouth fall open with a short exhale of air. His eyes are big and curious. He nods his head twice.

Atsumu reaches for his face and gently lets his fingers rest against Hinata’s temple. Hinata’s eyes close instinctively as Atsumu drags his hand over his cheek and inward to his neck in a curling motion. He lets his fingers grip the hair locks that individually lay flat against the back of his head. A shaky sigh escapes Hinata’s lips. Maybe he’s nervous. Atsumu knows _he _is.

“I’m going to kiss you,” he says, stroking his finger against the others cheek.

Hinata nods, eyes still closed.

Atsumu kisses him.

It’s not more than a soft peck. Maybe a bit more than a peck, but Hinata doesn’t move against him, so Atsumu doesn’t either. When he pulls away, Hinata’s eyes are open. The curious look is gone and replaced with _that _smile. It’s enough for Atsumu.

Hours pass, and by the time they have decided to sleep, the sun is already rising.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading :)
> 
> Follow me on twitter: hinata_harem


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